About face

One of the first things that struck me about the first Obama speech I watched on TV was the glory of the "YES WE CAN" signs in Gotham. I thought about the typography almost more than about Obama's message—and felt a tiny bit guilty (only a tiny bit; after all, I'm a designer who works primarily with type). So, I was happy to hear Brook Gladstone interview Sam Berlow on her show "On the Media" today. Sam pointed out the handsome qualities of the Obama campaign's use of Gotham—and the ugly 70s (oops) qualities of Hillary's choice of faces. Pretty interesting. Tobias Frère-Jones is a rock star for designing Gotham.

Inspiration

The best way to predict the future is to invent it.

—Alan Turing

Other talents

Often, if someone is talented at one thing, he or she is talented at a number of things. Leonardo da Vinci could do everything. Julie Taymor is a director and an artist and a costume designer and a librettist. Jonathan Kellerman is a psychiatrist and a best-selling author. Chip Kidd is a ground-breaking designer and a novelist and a musician. Debbie Millman is a designer, a design spokesperson, and a rather brilliant writer, not to mention someone who conducts a great interview and marshals a team of researchers and collaborators. Moi, I feel I'm still practicing to become more than just a good designer.

I do have other interests, abilities, fantasies. One of those other interests is dance, and one of the greatest pleasures in life comes from being a part of Frankie Manning's Wednesday Night Swing Class. We international and mostly middle-aged dancers have become an extended family, with friendships and support systems, and collaborations, and celebrations all weaving us togther.

So, my point.

Last night, I stopped in briefly at Barnes & Noble, where co-authors Frankie Manning and Cynthia R. Millman were chatting about the biography of Frankie Manning. I was privileged to design the book jacket and book interior--and provide the photo of Frankie that appears on the book's final page (per my design!). Cynthia kindly acknowledged my contribution, especially the design of the jacket (which, in truth, designed itself because the photo was so great). And

Frankie gave me the biggest gift of all, the give of inclusion in another life--his life of dance. Frankie said something like, "She doesn't just design books. She's a dancer. She's one of the Wednesday Night Hoppers." Frankie's comment made my day, my week, my life.

Respect or rubbernecking? I always wonder whether my fascination with the demises of the famous or infamous is sincere interest or a human vulture-like quality. One 28-year-old was quoted in the New York Times as saying that people of her generation feel very connected to each other, which is a lovely explanation (if not totally an explanation for crowds of people waiting to see a body bag being wheeled out of a building).

One comment that struck me for a few reasons noted the sadness that Ledger's daughter would never know him. The post was flagged for possible abuse—another reason I found it striking. I feel sorry for Michelle Williams and daughter Matilda. Maybe the language was the reason the comment seemed abusive (I didn't reade it closely).

No matter what, it's a pity that someone so young and talented has passed. An unwittingly lethal cocktail of prescription drugs would be even sadder.

Fame at 28 can be useless

Guilty. I joined the scrum of reporters. I'd say I went by to pay respects to talent but in my heart I know I was being a voyeur as well. R.I.P.